The Courtyard House: The Little Red Devil Returning from the Peninsula

As soon as Staff Officer Luo disappeared into the fog, the gunfire at the valley entrance intensified.

Zhao Weiguo lay prone behind the rock, his eyes fixed on the gap he had created himself. The Japanese soldiers were squeezing through that gap, the chaotic surge of people gone, replaced by an organized attack formation. Those in front lay prone for cover, those behind crouched low as they crept forward, while grenade launcher soldiers hid behind, finding positions to set up their cannons.

The Japanese troops at the bottom of the valley began to regroup.

Someone was shouting loudly, but there was no trace of panic in their voice; it was all a series of commands.

As the gunfire subsided, shouts became clearly audible, with strings of Japanese words displaying distinct lengths and rhythms, indicating that this was an army whose structure was still intact and undergoing reorganization.

Li Yunlong also figured it out. He stubbed out his cigarette on the ground and cursed fiercely.

"Damn it, those bastards reacted quickly."

The gunfire on the right slope changed tone at this moment.

No longer were there sporadic sniper shots; instead, dense, continuous gunfire mingled together, interspersed with roars and shouts.

Zhao Weiguo turned his head to look at the right slope. The fog and smoke mixed together, blurring his vision, but he could hear the gunfire moving towards the top of the slope. This meant that Japanese troops were advancing rapidly.

Someone on Kong Jie's side shouted, "Ammunition! The second platoon is out of ammunition!"

Then came Kong Jie's own voice, hoarse and dry: "Veterans, make some room! Give some to the machine gunners!"

Zhao Weiguo propped himself up and glanced again towards the right slope. Through the gaps in the smoke and dust, he saw figures climbing up the slope.

About fifty people, divided into three groups, moved uphill in alternating cover.

The first group lay down and fired, the second group moved forward, and the third group followed and lay down again. It was standard infantry squad tactics, and the movements were extremely skillful.

Kong Jie's troops are on the verge of collapse.

"Commander."

Li Yunlong, also staring at the right slope, didn't turn his head: "Speak."

"The right slope is about to give way. I'm going."

Li Yunlong finally turned to look at him: "What good would you do there?"

"I know where their blind spots are."

Li Yunlong stared at him for two seconds.

"embolus!"

"arrive."

"Go with him."

Shuanzi climbed up from behind the rock, a large patch of dark brown blood soaking into his right arm of his cotton-padded jacket. He had just torn a strip of cloth and wrapped it around his arm a few times, but the cloth was now completely soaked in blood.

"Can we still fight?" Zhao Weiguo asked.

"Pull the bolt slowly with your left hand. You can still hit it." Shuanzi grinned, revealing a set of teeth stained yellow from smoking.

Zhao Weiguo picked up a Type 38 rifle from the ground, pulled the pin, glanced at the magazine—five rounds. He then took two more rows of bullets from the ammunition box and stuffed them into his pocket. Chen An followed closely behind, clutching two grenades tightly in his hands.

The three of them crept along the shadows of the slope towards the right.

The position on the right slope was in complete chaos.

Kong Jie's men lay prone behind a low earthen embankment, the machine gun barrels smoldering and smoking. One machine gunner was frantically trying to pry open a jammed cartridge case with his bayonet, while the men beside him cursed in frustration.

At the bottom of the slope, the Japanese troops had already closed to within forty paces. Zhao Weiguo could see the patch of yellow skin peeking out from under their helmets, and the bits of grass hanging from the tips of their bayonets.

Someone was giving orders loudly and clearly, reporting distances and adjusting directions.

Zhao Weiguo did not head directly for the front of the defensive line. He bypassed the front, walked along the side of the slope for a while, and stopped behind a protruding rock.

This is the location I remembered during the daytime reconnaissance.

Looking down from here, the Japanese troops below the slope were in a blind spot. A protruding rock blocked their view, making it impossible for them to see the bullets coming from behind it.

"Shuttle, put it here."

Bolt lay down and placed the gun barrel steadily in the groove of the rock.

"Those three down the slope, do you see them? The officer, the grenade launcher soldier on the left, and the flag bearer behind him."

Shuanzi squinted one eye and glanced at it: "Which one should we attack first?"

"officer."

Shuanzi held his breath and pulled the trigger.

The officer who was pointing his saber forward at the bottom of the slope suddenly twisted his neck and fell straight backward.

The bolt was pulled back, the spent cartridge ejected, and the second bullet was already in the chamber. The soldier on the left, who had just crouched down to set up the grenade launcher, hadn't even had time to look up when the bullet instantly pierced his left eye socket, causing him to fall backward and tumble to the ground.

The third shot. A bloody hole appeared in the flag bearer's chest, the regimental flag shook violently, and plunged headfirst into the mud.

The Japanese offensive suddenly paused for a moment.

Kong Jie's men were also veterans, and they seized this momentary opening.

The machine guns roared again, and the rifles opened fire in unison.

The Japanese soldiers who had climbed halfway up the slope were beaten so badly that they could not lift their heads and could only lie on the ground. Without officers, the organization began to retreat.

But Zhao Weiguo didn't dare to relax at all.

He heard new noises coming from the direction of the valley entrance.

It was no longer the sound of gunfire, but the roar of people, groups of people shouting.

He suddenly turned his head to look.

Near the crevice at the valley entrance, the Japanese were gathering.

The team was well-organized, numbering about thirty men, all with bayonets fixed to rifles.

The leading officer drew his saber and swung it fiercely towards the valley entrance. The thirty men stood up straight in unison and rushed into the crevice along the valley path like madmen.

Suicide squad.

The last platoon under Li Yunlong's command was filled in.

The platoon leader's surname was Liu. Zhao Weiguo had planted mines with him before and recognized his face.

Platoon Leader Liu rushed to the pile of boulders at the valley entrance, set up his machine gun, turned around, and roared, "Fire!"

Machine guns spat fire. Four or five Japanese soldiers fell instantly in the first wave of the charge, but the rest didn't even pause.

They continued their charge forward, stepping over the corpses of their comrades; some had even already climbed over the first rolling stone.

Platoon Leader Liu fired a burst of machine gun fire with all his might, but the barrel suddenly jammed.

He shoved the machine gun aside, drew his broadsword from his back, and roared, "Fix bayonets!"

The two groups of people collided violently.

Zhao Weiguo lay prone on the right slope, taking in the fierce fighting across the valley. Platoon Leader Liu cleaved one man in two with a single blow, only to be stabbed in the ribs by another from the side.

He gritted his teeth and slashed off half of the Japanese soldier's face with a backhand stroke, then collapsed to his knees, exhausted.

The defensive line blocking the breach was on the verge of collapse.

Zhao Weiguo glanced at the steep slope beneath his feet.

Sliding down from this position will allow you to circle directly to the side of the valley entrance.

There was a shallow ditch hidden over there, concealed by thick, withered grass. He had explored it during the day when he was scouting the area, and its end was right next to the rear of the suicide squad.

Kong Jie's troops faced an increasingly dire situation on the slope.

When Zhao Weiguo looked away, he glanced at Kong Jie's men and saw that they had retreated to the second earthen embankment, and the first line of defense had been completely lost.

Corpses lay scattered on the earthen embankment, some of them friendly, some of Japanese. A young soldier leaned against the embankment, his chest stained with a large patch of dark red blood, his eyes wide open, his body already cold.

Kong Jie was squatting behind the earthen embankment, using his bayonet to pry open the wooden lid of an ammunition box.

He pried open the cap, revealing only three rows of bullets inside. He glanced at them, said nothing, and silently distributed the bullets to the men beside him.

"Chen An, give me the grenade."

Chen An quickly handed over the two grenades.

"You stay here with Shuanzi, don't go anywhere."

Zhao Weiguo slung his gun behind his back, gripped the grenade tightly, and slid down the side of the rock.

The slope was extremely steep, and he could only slide down by desperately bracing his heels against the hard, frozen ground, with loose stones tumbling down his path. Once he reached the bottom, he immediately crouched down and crawled into the shallow ditch.

The ditch is not deep, just enough for one person to bend over and walk through.

The ditch walls were covered with withered wormwood, its stalks hard and dense, completely blocking the view on both sides.

With one hand pushing aside the withered grass and the other gripping a grenade, Zhao Weiguo silently made his way forward.

Nearly.

The clanging of metal and screams of bayonets clashing ahead were deafening. He stopped and peeked out through the gaps in the grass.

The tail end of the suicide squad was less than twenty paces away. Those men were charging forward with bloodshot eyes and complete focus, their backs wide open.

Zhao Weiguo pulled the pin on the first grenade and threw it into the crowd.

The second one followed immediately.

The first one hit the very center of the Japanese troops, rolling twice before detonating. The second one exploded in mid-air.

Two muffled thuds almost overlapped. The violent shockwave overturned a large patch of grass, and pebbles mixed with sharp shrapnel swept out in a fan shape.

Zhao Weiguo buried his face in the mud of the ditch wall, feeling a blast of scalding hot air rushing past his scalp.

When he looked up again, the suicide squad's formation had been blown to pieces.

Seven or eight corpses lay scattered on the ground, and the remaining people began to retreat in panic.

The soldiers on Platoon Leader Liu's side finally managed to regain their footing. Someone grabbed the machine gun and started firing wildly at the retreating Japanese troops.

Zhao Weiguo used both his hands and feet to climb out of the shallow ditch and ran back to the left slope along the original route.

As soon as they reached the top of the slope, they saw Li Yunlong staring intently at the bottom of the valley through binoculars, his face frighteningly gloomy.

"Take a look." Li Yunlong handed over the binoculars.

Zhao Weiguo took the binoculars and looked in the direction the Japanese troops were heading.

His gaze froze instantly.

Deep in the valley, the Japanese army is regrouping.

The scene didn't resemble scattered soldiers or a retreating army being gathered together; they had actually formed three neat columns.

The soldiers silently adjusted their positions, and the officers patrolled back and forth to inspect the ranks. Light and heavy machine guns had been quickly set up on both flanks.

The lining-up movements were swift and orderly.

It only took the team fifteen minutes to go from chaos to an orderly counterattack.

Zhao Weiguo slowly lowered the binoculars.

"Do they have a colonel?" he asked.

"Major," Li Yunlong said coldly, "His surname is Yamada. According to the prisoners, he was transferred from the Kwantung Army."

Zhao Weiguo picked up his binoculars again, searching for the officer who had gotten up and was wearing a major's uniform.

Yamada stood at the front of the formation, giving instructions to his officers. As soon as he finished speaking, the officers immediately ran back to their positions.

Yamada drew his sword, first pointing to the right slope, then to the valley entrance.

They split into two groups.

He saw through their scheme at a glance; the junction of the right slope and the valley entrance was the weakest point. The Japanese had a very clever plan: a feigned attack on the right slope to create a diversion, while their real aim was to completely breach the valley entrance.

Li Yunlong drew his pistol, removed the magazine, glanced at it, then put it back in the grip and patted it hard.

Then, he took out a handful of loose bullets from his ammunition pouch and started loading them into the magazine one by one.

His brothers were all doing the same thing.

The rifleman bent down to check the magazine, the machine gunner was loading bullets one by one into the belt, someone drew a bayonet from its sheath, examined it for a moment, and then silently sheathed it again. No one made a sound, and no one took a single step back.

Yamada slashed his military sword forward fiercely in mid-air.

The two groups of people rushed forward at the same time, like a tidal wave.

Zhao Weiguo glanced at the right slope. Kong Jie's men had barely managed to stabilize their position, and they hadn't even finished distributing their ammunition.

He looked again at the valley entrance, where the platoon had just gone through a fierce hand-to-hand combat, and less than half of the brothers had survived.

Platoon Leader Liu's body still lay beside the pile of rubble, and no one bothered to collect it.

Ding Wei's messenger scurried along, crouching low, and knelt down in front of Li Yunlong.

"Commander Li, Commander Ding asked me to inquire whether we should transfer some men from his unit?"

Li Yunlong didn't even turn his head: "Are the Japanese sticking to him tight over there?"

"It's tight. There's also a small squad locked in fierce combat on the front. Commander Ding said he can't spare too many men, at most a squad."

"Tell him to keep it himself," Li Yunlong gritted his teeth and spat out. "He has to clean up his own mess. When it's his turn, I'll call for him."

The messenger turned and ran.

Zhao Weiguo looked down at the Type 38 rifle in his hand; only three bullets lay forlornly in the magazine. He reached into his pocket; the remaining two rows of gleaming yellow bullets were still there.

He placed the gun barrel steadily on the cold rock.

Through the sights, he clearly saw Yamada's military sword pause for a moment in mid-air. Then, the gleaming blade slashed down fiercely.

The two groups of people launched an attack simultaneously.

From the right slope, the team crept up again, with even more members than the previous round.

From the direction of the valley entrance, rows of infantrymen followed closely behind the suicide squad, their cold bayonets gleaming with a grayish-white light in the thick fog.

A voice roared from the hillside: "The Japanese devils are coming up again!"

Immediately following, someone shouted in response: "Start attacking right away!"

Although the sound was not loud, and even carried a hint of heavy breathing, the gunshot still rang out.

Zhao Weiguo aimed his crosshairs at the grenade launcher soldier running in front, held his breath, and pulled the trigger sharply.

The man collapsed to the ground.

He pulled the bolt, the hot cartridge case sprang out, and the sights immediately locked onto the second target.

That vast crowd of people in gray-yellow military uniforms was sweeping towards us like an overwhelming tide.